Blood Wild - Sex Stories

Blood Wild

... kind and considerate, and gentle. Not once had he tried to force himself on Sylvia, unlike so many other boys that she had dated or teased or fooled around with over the years. No, Rich was a nice guy. She knew he had developed feelings for her. Sylvia wasn’t sure just how deep those feelings went but she knew he would be hurt when she did leave for school. She wanted to make it up to him somehow. Maybe just to make some pleasant memories for him, of her and the two of them while they were together.

“Do what you know, girl.” Sylvia thought to herself. The little redheaded vixen smiled to herself. She was going to make Richard’s night. She lifted the middle cushion of the sofa and then the ones on either side and set them aside. She grabbed the pull strap and eased up on it resulting in a strangled sounding creak of the little used springs as the pull-out bed lifted up out of the base of the sofa and unfolded outward.

Richard must not have the springs because he just kept on chattering away about whatever in the kitchen part of the small shanty. Sylvia noted that while the sheets and blanket on the pull-out mattress were a little stale or musty smelling, they were at least clean. Smiling again to herself, she pulled them back and fluffed the two pillows before placing them at the head of the mattress.

Sylvia toed off her sneakers and nudged them under the pull-out. Then she quickly unsnapped and unbuttoned her jeans and slipped them down over her narrow hips and ...

... stepped out of them. Next, she unbuttoned her blouse, a pink linen with red trim on the arm cuffs and the collar. The blouse was folded and set atop the stacked-up sofa cushions. All that remained on her pale porcelain white skin was her lacy pink bra and matching lacy pink panties.

Gingerly, she crawled onto the bed and slipped halfway beneath the covers. Sylvia turned on her side propping her head on her hand with her elbow on the pillow, facing the doorway from the kitchen into the front room. From the kitchen, Sylvia heard Richard say that he’d finally got them straightened out, talking about the fishing poles apparently. He came through the doorway and into the front room with a pole in each hand... and froze.

Sylvia lay there on the pull-out bed, nearly naked, with smoldering eyes and a smile that belied her intentions. Richard simply didn’t know what to say, his heart was thundering in his chest, his lungs felt as if the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. A goddess. It was the only de***********ion he could think of. A fiery red-haired goddess laying on the bed and smiling up at him.

“I... umm... wha... We...” Richard stammered.

“What’s the matter sweety? Cat got your tongue?” Sylvia all but purred, trying her damnedest not to giggle at Richard’s shocked and amazed reaction.

“I... I... I... Uh... Sylvia?” Richard continued to stammer as his mind raced to make sense of this situation.

His mind might be struggling to figure it out, but his body already ...